


Fulfillment

by Dragonsquill (dragonsquill)



Series: Hobbit ABCs [6]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Response
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 15:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3942733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsquill/pseuds/Dragonsquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori had known from his fifties that his seventieth birthday gift would be a wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fulfillment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leaper182](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leaper182/gifts).



The wedding was lovely.

But of course it would be, having been planned by Dori and funded by Dwalin’s family; the result was understated and elegant, and probably perfect, though neither groom seemed to notice.

Ori had known from his fifties that his seventieth birthday gift would be a wedding. Dori had arranged it in a time when they were near-starving, a move of quiet desperation that he hid behind hard eyes and soft hugs (but Ori heard the tears at night, that he’d sold his little brother away, and Nori’s low growls that it was for the best, Ori would never be hungry again-). He’d always been nervous, and a little afraid, because his betrothed was so much older, and so _big_ , and more than a little terrifying at times.

“He can keep you safe,” Nori told him, “that’s what matters.”

“He can keep you fed,” Dori told him, “you’ll never be hungry or wear holes in your clothes.”

“We want to reinforce Ereborian connections,” Balin told him gently, his future brother-in-law who’d taken him under his wing and started teaching him so he wouldn’t be quite so far out of his element when the time came. “So many of the royal families were wiped out, and now there’s a great deal of intermarriage with the locals. It makes a statement if the line of Durin chooses to marry within the Erebor refugees.”

“But I’m _nobody_ ,” Ori argued, half angry and half excited even then. “There has to be someone better!”

But there was enough of an argument that Ori’s family was descended from Durin III - on the wrong side of the blanket, admittedly - that the marriage arrangement was allowed.

As to what Dwalin thought about all of it, Ori never knew. During his decade plus of training in reading, writing, history, and etiquette, he only saw his betrothed in person a handful of times. He had to have agreed to it - he was a full adult, and dwarves weren’t _forced_ to marry, after all - but when they met he was only stiff and silent, never smiling as he offered this or that small gift: a new quill, a lovely inkwell, a leather satchel. They were a;; useful, beautiful items that would have been an excellent route to Ori’s heart, had the giver been a warmer dwarf.

As it was, he could only assume Balin told his brother which gifts would be best.

The morning of the wedding was beautiful, with warm shafts of sunlight peeking in through the high ceilings of Thorin’s Halls. Dori helped Ori into the richest clothing he’d ever owned, rich purples with silver thread, and there were tears in his brothers eyes more than once. 

Then Dwalin appeared at his door, tall and broad and handsome in the traditional Durin blue, and Ori’s heart sped up with nerves.

"May I speak to you?” Dwalin asked, his great booming voice making the question sound like a demand.

But Ori was no coward, and he lifted his head as he answered, “Yes.”

Dori argued a bit, but Ori insisted he give them a moment alone. It wasn’t easy going against Dori, but he was an adult now and Dori knew it, so his brother kissed his forehead (not at _all_ embarrassing in front of a betrothed old enough to be your father) and let them be.

Dwalin stepped forward and looked down at Ori from his great height. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, without preamble.

Ori’s eyes widened. “Do you not want to?” he blurted, cursing in his mind as soon as he did. _Of course he doesn’t! Look at you!_

Dwalin’s eyes swept over him a moment, not assessing or lecherous but just…looking. “I wouldn’t have agreed to this, if I was unwilling to fulfill the arrangement. But you weren’t old enough yet, when you were asked.”

Ori bit his lip. “I don’t …” How did he put it into words? He didn’t want to be hungry, or ¬poor. He didn’t want to lose this opportunity to make life better for his brothers. He liked Balin, but he was a little nervous of Dwalin. But not enough to give up what he could have. And he wasn’t… afraid. There was something in Dwalin that kept him from being truly afraid. “I don’t mind. I think we can … we can take our time and find out … what we’re meant to be to each other. Friends or,” he felt his cheeks and nose flush, but he pushed on, “or more. And show our people that the families of Erebor are important, no matter what.” Ori firmed his jaw. “That we should stand together.”

Dwalin didn’t quite smile, but his eyes softened, laugh lines appearing at the corners. “You’re a brave little thing,” he said, and there was something Ori liked to think was approval in his voice. “Very well then.” He reached out and took Ori’s small hands in his large ones, cradling the fingers and leaning down to lift them to his forehead in a quiet vow. “We will fulfill our agreement,” he murmured, “and perhaps find a form of fulfillment in each other.”

Ori smiled, tentative and hopeful. “I hope so,” he said, and tightened his fingers around those of the warrior who was to be his husband.


End file.
